Double Edged
by Akarui KH
Summary: As Guy's training intensifies, his desire to become the world's greatest swordsman does as well and Matthew has his doubts about Karel. Shonenai, KxG and MxG. [Discontinued as of July '05]
1. Crawling

A/N – Hello hello! A couple of you might know me. I wrote a Matthew/Leila one-shot a while back. And now I'm here with another Fire Emblem fic, this time, full-length! I'm guessing this'll be pretty long, I have a lot of stuff planned out for it. While this isn't exactly a romance fic, there are strong pairings in it. I'll note right now that the pairings are Karel x Guy and Matthew x Guy in major roles. There will probably be some Legault x Heath and Raven x Lucius in later chapters, though. Karel x Guy, as far as I know, hasn't been written yet and I think they'd make an interesting pair. If you don't like shonen-ai, leave now. You have been warned.

Disclaimer – Fire Emblem belongs to Nintendo. All I own is a copy of the game, and this fic.

"Double-Edged"

Chapter One – Crawling

Guy fell.

Panting, the myrmidon thrust the point of his sword into the dry earth and used it to hoist himself up. He looked at his master, Karel, with a defiant flare in his eyes.

He wouldn't give up. The young Sacaen had needed to beg the sword-demon just for the opportunity to train with him, and now he could barely even spar against him in a training match without failing miserably. He felt like such a child.

Guy pulled the blade out of the ground and held it unsteadily in front of him, pointing it at Karel. "Come on." He said, "Come at me!"

Karel said nothing in reply. His face showed no emotion as he carefully sheathed his own blade, not taking his eyes off his apprentice. Those eyes made Guy feel even weaker. Cold, unblinking killer's eyes. The only other expression they could manage was a look of bloodlust. Guy was glad one of the eyes was usually hidden under Karel's thick brown fringe. He feared the eyes.

"You lack skill." Karel hissed, "Be grateful. If you had power enough to match my own, I would kill you. As it stands...my blade has no desire to taste your blood. Be gone." He turned his back, ready to walk away.

"Are you mocking me?!" Guy shouted. Karel's words had sounded like a taunt to his ears. He was angry now, and he felt insulted. He did not lack skill! If Karel would spar against him now, he would prove it. He'd teach Karel for looking down at him so much – he'd cut him down to size right now!

"If you're so certain I can't win, Master, then come and defeat me now!" Guy yelled, shaking as he took one step forward with the sword still gripped in his sweaty palms, gritting his teeth and glaring at the back of Karel's turned head. The sword-demon neither accepted nor declined the boy's challenge. He did not speak. He didn't even move.

"I...I'll fight you!" Guy shot out, fighting with his voice to hide his exhaustion, "I'll fight you here and now!"

Karel turned. His eyes met with Guy's and what might have been a small smile crept onto his features. "Your training for today is over." He said in the same low, hissing voice he always spoke in. It was a firm statement. Unarguable. He went on. "Seek me out in a few days at a time when you are sure Lord Eliwood will not need either of us, and your training will continue." He turned and started to silently, swiftly walk away, not waiting for any form of a response from Guy.

When the braided youth was sure that his master was not going to look back, he sheathed his sword and tiredly flopped down into the tall grass. He closed his eyes, tired, and as he began to fall asleep he reminded himself of his life's goal.

He would become the best swordsman in all of Sacae.

No, the best swordsman in all of Elibe. He'd be even better then the legendary sword-demon, Karel.

If it killed him.

Halfway across the group's camp, Matthew leaned against a tree, only half listening to Legault, who had casually approached him and started to talk cheerfully.

His eyes were focused on Karel. The sword-demon was walking with stealth through the camp. Much of the group had already retired into a tent to sleep for the night, but Matthew had never seen Karel sleep – of course he wasn't.

Matthew had been watching his and Guy's training sessions since they had first started. At first it was out of curiosity, but now there was that and worry making him be sure to oversee the training sessions.

Karel was an amazing swordsman, no doubt about it. He was very hard on Guy. Merciless and cruel – even to his student.

The only difference between Karel's fights with Guy and his fights with enemies on the battlefield seemed to be that Guy was never seriously wounded, and of course, hadn't died. Yet.

There was fear in Matthew, even if he didn't know it yet himself. Fear that if this went on, Guy would become just like Karel. Another sword-demon, emotionless and dominated by the thirst for blood and battle. The thief wouldn't just stand by and let that happen.

"Karel, hmm?" Legault's voice broke Matthew's mental barrier, startling him.

"Yeah, what about him?" Matthew snapped back.

"No need to be angry with me, now." The other thief said coolly, nonchalantly running a hand through his long, lilac-coloured hair, "I noticed you were watching him. That's all."

Matthew snorted. "What does it matter to you?" He said brusquely. He was in a bad mood. A very bad mood.

"I wouldn't get involved with him." Legault answered, though the question was rhetorical, "He's a creepy fellow." But by the time he finished, Matthew was already walking over to Karel.

Legault sighed. "Well, well, well...I'm certainly not a very popular fellow, now am I?"

-End Chapter One-

A/N – Well, what did you think? Loved it? Hated it? Tell me. I appreciate ALL feedback – except flames. Constructive criticism is welcome. I personally think that so far I've gotten everyone's characters down pretty good. Not sure about Matthew, but he's rarely in a bad mood at all. XD Please review and tell me what you think. I'll have chapter two up as soon as possible! Bye for now!


	2. Feast

A/N – First and foremost, I apologize HUGELY for the amount of time it took me to get this up. Know that I am a terrible procrastinator. No chapter of this fic will be up immediately, but I'm going to try VERY hard to not make you wait half as long as you did for this one. Also, review responses are at the end of the chapter. Enjoy!

Chapter Two – Feast

The night air was still and calm. Looking over the campsite, scanning it, Karel noticed only about three people still awake. This much was a good thing. The sword demon greatly preferred solitude to company.

He unsheathed the Wo Dao, his precious blade. Carefully he inspected it, making sure it hadn't been damaged in his last training session with that pup from Sacae, Guy. No apparent damage – that was good. His sword would live to taste more battles for years to come.

"Karel!" A sudden shout shattered the calm night silence, and Karel whipped around, sword in hand, to see who this mysterious attacker was.

On the other end of his blade stood a tall young man with sandy brown hair and auburn eyes, sporting mostly plain, casual clothes except for his odd red cape. Karel knew him by his name, by his face, but as with many of the members of their makeshift army, not as a person. Matthew the thief.

At the moment, Karel had said thief at sword-point. Matthew casually raised one hand, meeting the sword demon's eyes. "Put the sword down, Karel, we're allies here."

Not taking his gaze off the young thief, Karel returned his beloved partner, the Wo Dao, to its scabbard. He didn't speak at first, but after a pause he said, "I do not know why you approached me, but I have no time for child's play." With those words he turned his back. Matthew's company was far from desirable, and he didn't seem to have a reason for coming to him in the first place. Fool.

"Wait!" Matthew called back, just as suddenly as he had before. Karel stopped in his tracks, keeping his back to the thief. It wasn't in Karel's character to be truly annoyed, but if Matthew kept beating around the bush like this he would certainly come close.

Matthew walked as informally as ever in front of Karel, but the sword demon noticed something other than the usual cheer in the young man's eyes. Karel didn't speak, just looked down at Matthew and observed. He could tell by the thief's face that he meant business. Matthew's common happy and carefree demeanor was washed away when he looked at him, but why? He'd done nothing wrong to the thief. They had never even spoken with each other.

"Karel, what have you been doing with Guy?" Matthew asked. So, this had something to do with the boy. True, he had seen the thief together with Guy rather frequently. However, the sword demon had no idea what Matthew was implying. His only interactions with the young Sacaen had been the training matches that he'd wanted so desperately.

"All I have been doing is training him in sword arts." He answered monotonously, but the thief still had more to say.

"He's turning into you!" Matthew yelled, "Every day, he cares less about everything else and more about swordsmanship, about his training, about battle!"

Karel raised his eyebrows in a gesture of mild amusement. After all, Guy had been the one who'd wanted the training. He'd begged and whined like a helpless puppy searching for its master. And this one, Matthew – he was just sniffing around where he shouldn't be, and then jumping to conclusions. Not worth his time.

"But despite that, Guy is still the same headstrong, stubborn whelp he always was." Karel hissed, and then in a less menacing tone he added, "I would never turn anyone into another of myself."

Without even waiting for the thief's reply, he walked around him and into the camp, moving as silently as a ghost in the night. He slipped into a tent for the night, perfectly content with leaving Matthew outside, alone and no doubt confused.

The morning's first rays of light filtered through the thin walls of the tents, inviting most of the group to wake up, but Karel was already awake. The sword demon did not sleep.

He cast his eyes, showing no emotion, over the other people he had shared this night's tent with. The scholar, Canas. Raven, the red-haired mercenary. And finally the effeminate monk, Lucius.

Karel saw no point in staying behind in the tent. A quiet murmur was rising softly outside, the sounds of the group waking and greeting the new day. Pushing the tent's door flap aside, Karel was about to join the others when a quiet voice sounded from behind him. Why was it that he, who never sought conversation, seemed to be such a popular person to talk to?

"Karel?" The serene voice repeated tentatively. Karel nearly growled. He'd had enough talking last night alone to last him a solid two weeks. "…What is it, Lucius?" He asked, wanting to get this over with. He was craving blood and battle. If he was lucky, their party would reach its destination today and he'd get a fight as opposed to constant idle chitchat.

"I heard your conversation with Matthew last night." Lucius said calmly.

"I do not need the whole army on my back," Karel hissed bitterly, "because one person suspects something of me."

Before the monk had any time to answer, Karel was stalking away, moving like a phantom towards Merlinus' tent to get a small breakfast. In the background, he could hear Raven's characteristically angry voice saying something to Lucius, and assumed that the monk might be occupied for a time.

"I told you to train alone for a few days and seek me out afterward, Guy." Karel said, "You aren't strong enough to defeat me now, and I would be ashamed to go easy on you."

The sword demon stopped to think about what he had just said. Despite the ever-emotionless tone of his voice, there was something hidden behind the words. Concern, perhaps, for Guy? Somewhere in the back of his mind, did he actually care for this stupid whelp?

"It's a few hours away from sunset, master, and I've been training since I got up!" Guy protested.

"As your master, it should be up to me to decide when we hold these training matches."

"Master, please!" The Sacaen teen begged, adding the promise, "I'll be better than I was last time!"

'Still the same'. Karel's own words from the night before echoed in his mind. Guy hadn't learned a thing, and he still didn't stand a chance against the legendary sword demon.

However, even when he tried for whatever reason, he could not suppress his instincts. No matter what, if his sword wanted a feast, he would give the sword a feast. He lived by the sword.

"Draw." He hissed ominously after a long silence, unsheathing the Wo Dao and pointing it at his student.

The sword was hungry, and thus, so was the swordsman.

Fifteen minutes had passed, and Karel found himself still fighting Guy. The metallic ringing sound of sword kissing sword filled the air, accompanied by the occasional spray of blood.

Only during a duel did this side of Karel truly surface. His eyes lit up with a raging, thirsty bloodlust and his body moved twice as fast as it normally would. He lost all traces of thought, all sense. During a fight, he really was mindless. It was like the scent of blood set off something in his mind that forced him to fight, forced him to feed the blade that was so precious to him. The normal Karel, perhaps, only more violent.

Moving extra quick, he lashed out with the Wo Dao and dodging his apprentice's sword thrust, struck him below the waist, making a cut just deep enough to draw blood. Amazingly, Guy was still standing, despite having several wounds.

In a brief pause in the action, Karel lept back and lifted the Wo Dao's blade to his lips, licking off the fresh red blood with a sadistic look on his face.

It was then that the unexpected happened. Never before, in any of the frequent matches between the two, had Karel been hit, yet suddenly, he felt Guy's sword cut into his flesh not once, not twice, but three times before he could strike back.

Conveniently hidden by foliage, Matthew watched curiously as the braided teen faced off against the legendary swordsman in what he could barely believe was just a friendly practice fight.

Most of the day had been pretty boring, the party had only marched on, encountering nothing of interest whatsoever, and now they'd set up camp for the night.

Matthew had spent most of the day just snooping around. He hadn't learned anything worth talking about – just some decidedly unwanted information about a certain thief (not him – hell no!) and a certain wyvern rider. No, nothing worth talking about at all.

This, however, could prove interesting. He'd been watching the fight only for the last five minutes, but somehow he knew something was wrong.

It might've been the look on Guy's face – hardened beyond the norm as he focused all his energy on the match that made Matthew think this, but when he suddenly managed to strike Karel, he knew. Something then had changed in Guy, with that first swing.

He swung the sword twice more, each time losing a part of himself.

With every swing he grew further from the Guy that Matthew had grown to know and love.

With each slash, he surrendered another part of himself to the sword.

And Matthew knew he had to do something. He'd do whatever he needed to get Guy back. He had already lost someone very close to him in the past.

He refused to let such a thing happen again.

-End Chapter-

A/N – Not exactly what I was going for, but I think it turned out pretty good. Again, I'm sorry it took me so long. I'm a bad, bad person – but I won't let it go un-updated this long ever again. Please review! Here are the responses to those who reviewed me before:

RianneHime – I'll tell you right off that bat that this will end up more MxG in the end, but there will be strong hints of both pairings.

Bishop Sarasi – Yeah, my chapters tend to be short. I'm trying to work on that, mind. And, argh, I KNEW I'd heard that Legault line somewhere before! But in actual canon of all places…I am a bad, bad person. Nice to know I'm not the only one who saw Karel/Guy potential, though. Thanks!

Amythest Bubble – Thanks, glad you liked it. Finally, here's the chapter you wanted.

MagicianFairy – Like I said, the LxH and RxL will be there, but not in huge roles. And I like MxG myself, but saw so much potential for KxG, and didn't think it had ever be written, so I figured I'd try something new. I'll probably be writing more Karel/Guy in the future, at that.

HellFenix – Thanks for the support. I'm glad you liked it.

Flamefirefox – Again, glad you liked it. And again, I'll work on chapter length. Very nice to hear that you think everyone is in character, though!


	3. Broken

A/N – Why, hello all. ;; It's, erm, a pleasure to see you! It's been nearly two months. Eheheh. Please don't kill me. Please. I'll have you know I'm disgusted with myself for taking so freakin' long to update. But to all those who reviewed and kept me going…I thank you very much. I never thought my little fic about Guy going insane would be as successful as it is. And yeah, to me, 14 reviews? Pretty successful. I'll put review responses at the END of the chapter again. Thanks!

I'd also like to warn you that for plot reasons, this chapter uses OOC. But I tried to keep the OOC in-character at the same time…if that…makes sense… ;; Just read.

Disclaimer: Fire Emblem is not mine.

'Chapter Three – Broken'

Battles had been feeling different for Guy lately.

Normally he'd don a semi-false air of confidence, unsheathe his sword, and hack wildly at whichever enemy he was ordered to. He'd even, at that point, believed himself to be skilled.

Despite what he'd heard, who he'd failed to defeat, or whatever a more sensible part of his mind told him, he still thought he was skilled then.

Stupid of him.

Now, he was barely thinking about anything except the fight. Other thoughts would distract him. All he could let himself think about was the battle, the opponent he faced. Finding weaknesses, eliminating the enemies that truly posed a threat, with what weapon and technique to attack next – that was it.

If his training had taught him anything – truly taught him – it was more how to think during a fight than how to actually fight. Before Karel, he was always hesitant. He was merciful. He was weak.

'Things are different now', thought Guy as he violently slashed an enemy mercenary with his blade. He was hardly fazed by the spray of blood, even as a few specks of the warm, red liquid splattered on to his face. It still set off a distant alarm signal in his head, but he managed to keep himself from looking (or feeling, really) disgusted in any way.

A while back, he'd hated blood in every possible way. Since the sword-demon Karel had taken him as a student, though, he'd spilled and shed enough blood, both in battle and as he practiced, that he was used to it.

Used to it. The sight, the scent, the feel – of blood. The thought of ever being 'used to it' disturbed Guy. He was, though. He couldn't deny that.

He had changed. He couldn't deny that, either.

Suddenly, Guy felt the distinctive pain that could only be a sharp blade. Such pain was making its way down Guy's back, and he could feel blood seeping out of a wound. As soon as he felt the cold steel disconnect with his body, he whipped around to face his surprise attacker.

An enemy myrmidon faced him. Guy wasted no time; he thrust his sword straight into the enemy's heart. His foe had a split second to wheeze and cough as a scarlet blot appeared on his chest, oozing out and staining his clothes, and then, as Guy pulled his blade from his aggressor's body, fell to the ground, dead.

Another myrmidon appeared, and then a mercenaries. Fighters, archers and thieves. Guy killed every last one of them.

'I really have changed,' Guy thought as he cut down an opposing cavalier, 'Sometimes, I worry myself. But I'm stronger, and I like that. I've changed for the better.'

He let out a sigh of relief as his enemy fell. "That's about all of them over here." He said, raising a hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead, and then carelessly brushing dark green bangs out of his eyes. He was covered in sweat and blood, and he was tired.

He glanced around the battlefield. The tactician had carefully ordered most of the army into groups of two or three, with a few people here and there (including Guy himself) going solo. Where were the healers? She must have sent at least one into this fight. It was no piece of cake.

He seriously needed a healer. He didn't want to think about what would happen if he wasn't tended to soon. He'd survived, yes, but it had been tough. He wouldn't be able to take much more.

It happened so suddenly.

Guy felt a strange sort of energy surge viciously through his body. It stung, and then it pulsed, and then it unleashed all hell – within a second or less.

He wanted to curse, but found he could not speak. He must have been hit by magic! Powerful anima magic. He didn't have time to think about it, he just knew.

He screamed in pain – the best he could do. His body twitched and shook violently for about a minute, and then ceased movement entirely, falling to the hard ground below.

Matthew would know that voice anywhere, even if 'that voice' at the moment was screaming in agony.

That was Guy's voice. And it didn't sound too good.

He pulled his knife from his opponent's body. "Finish him off for me." He said to the two nearest allies. He then turned and sprinted in the direction of the scream.

"Hang on." He whispered, knowing but not caring how useless he would be.

An hour later, the battle had ended, and Matthew found himself standing over a bed in a special tent that had been set up for the healers. Guy wasn't the only one who had been seriously hurt in the last battle. On either side of his Matthew, other beds were set up. One hosted a half-conscious Raven (who Lucius was busying himself tending to) and on the other side, Heath. Two more beds were set up to Heath's left, but Matthew really couldn't care to look at the moment and see which possible friends were lying there, suffering.

He wasn't paying much attention to the other patients, except for when his sensitive, trained spy's ears picked up snippets of conversation.

"…stupid…" He caught a voice saying somewhere within the tent.

Stupid.

The word rang in Matthew's ears over and over, like the echoing clang of a bell. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

He shook his head and couldn't help a small smile from etching itself onto his face. Guy really was the same. He just went about things differently, Matthew assured himself, and he'd gotten better with the sword. 'He's still the same.' He thought. At least, he honestly hoped so. He still had doubts. Horrible, nagging, painful doubts.

"You're an idiot, Guy." He said out loud, speaking to a motionless shell, "You're reckless and stubborn as hell." He conveniently stopped himself from adding any sort of line to that, as it would most likely have turned out to be something along the lines of, 'That's what I like so much about you, kid.'

Instead, he just stood there, silent and rigid. No more talking. Now was the time to observe. Guy's body would probably be okay. Aside from a few deep wounds and mild burns that were already mending thanks to healing staves, Guy was physically intact. His green hair still snaked, braided, along his back. His face still, even in sleep, held its boyish look. He was the same size. Yes, Guy's body would be alright. It was normal. Just marked. Temporarily marked.

It wasn't Guy's body that Matthew was worried about now. It was his soul.

"Hey."

A smooth, calm voice jarred Matthew back to reality. He looked over to his side. Standing near Heath's bed was a tall, thin man with long hair. The former Black Fang assassin, Legault.

Matthew hadn't noticed it before, but lately his hatred for the Black Fang seemed distant. It was present, it was as alive as he was, but it wasn't quite as strong. Like there was a new hatred, one that had to be dealt with right now, and the Black Fang could wait a bit.

"What're you doing here?" He asked bluntly. The words came out almost on their own.

Legault gave him a questioning look. "Same as you. Visiting." He said, "Similarily, I could ask you why you're talking to me, but I don't mind. Really."

"So what," said Matthew, "that 'hey' there was for Heath?"

"Indeed it was." Legault replied simply, giving that typical Legault grin.

"Well, that seems rather silly. He's unconscious." Matthew answered and gave his own smile, unable to tell if it was real or not even himself. 'Hypocrite.' He said mentally to himself after the comment.

"As if you weren't talking to Guy just now."

"Heh." Was all Matthew said in reply, waiting for Legault to either keep going or keep quiet.

"You must really like the kid. You've been in here for a while. But remember," mused the purple-haired thief, "You aren't the only one who cares for someone."

Matthew looked away. What was that supposed to mean? As usual, he just couldn't listen to the other thief talk for very long. Glancing back at Guy, still comatose on the bed, he said 'goodbye' in his mind, then turned and left the tent.

He'd come back tomorrow.

Karel moved like a wraith through the army's camp. There was something eerie about the way he walked. Fast but soundlessly. More like floating or gliding over the earth then actually setting foot upon it.

All evening and into the night, people had been in and out of the healer's tent, but the sword-demon had yet to go near the place. He'd always had a significant lack of interest in healing. After all, the cutting and the bloodshed was so much more fun.

On the other hand, his apprentice was in there. Guy. For whatever reason, he felt like he needed to see the boy, and so, he decided he'd make a short visit.

He paused before the tent. Before he could step inside, another person rushed out.

The one person who definitely didn't want to see Karel.

Matthew.

-End Chapter-

A/N – This chapter, I'm happy with. Finally. Not so much the end, but the rest, well…I like this fic today, and that's that. I promise that I have not given up on this fic. No matter how long it takes to update (and no more near-two-month intervals, hm?), I will write this fic to the bitter end. Thank you all for putting up with an authoress as lazy as me. I love you guys.

Review responses:

ShadowAngel2429: Oh? What's this? Another KarelxGuy shipper? YAY! Admittedly this is more of a Matthew/Guy fic, but as the next few chapters will center heavily around Karel, the Karel/Guy will be far more present. I'm glad you liked the fic!

Hippogriff: Reviews like that, while not the most helpful, do indeed fill me with glee. hugs you

Ryzuki: I'm glad you liked my work. Hmmm, it's seeming more like MxG…I'll have to write more KxG (strictly KxG) in the future. Glad I've sparked someone's interest in a fresh new pairing though!

Flamefirefox: Hey, I told you all I'd update. And gasp! Here I am again! As for Matthew's IC-ness, I think I handled it pretty well, personally. I was going by the way he treats (and probably thinks about) the Black Fang members in the party (Jaffar in particular) for a little guideline to the way for him to treat Karel…

KaibasShadowGirl: Hey hey, no problem. Not EVERY review has to be huge, after all. It's just nice to know I'm appreciated around these parts. :P

Radical Edward – Ed likes? Ed gets a cookie from Thea! (Thea being…me!) gives you a cookie


	4. The Demon's Memories

A/N – And here I present you all with the fourth chapter of Double-Edged! Whoohoo! ;; I told you I wouldn't take too long on this one…it's been what, two weeks? Not even? Karel and Matthew have another conversation in this chapter, but hopefully it'll prove interesting. And man, was it hard to keep Karel in character here…

Disclaimer: Oh yeah, I, a thirteen-year-old, own Fire Emblem. Psh, yeah right – FIRE EMBLEM ISN'T MINE.

'Chapter Four - The Demon's Memories'

Karel's molten gold eyes met immediately with Matthew's, the annoyance in their auburn-coloured depths turning quickly to anger. Clearly, the thief was not amused. Before a conversation could even start, Karel didn't like the way it was going.

He would waste no time. Face hard as stone, he said one word: "Move." Matthew did not.

"Move." Karel said, "Or you'll be removed." He wasn't in the mood to play any games. If Matthew continued to be this difficult, he would get himself cut down, and that would be a waste. The Wo Dao deserved stronger blood than any petty thief's.

"I don't think so," Matthew said, his voice almost teasing.

"Feh. If this is about the boy, I am not his babysitter." The sword-demon spoke calmly, but there was an edge to his words that was nearly as dangerous as his blade. "We have already discussed this matter."

"This is serious, though, Guy's been – "

Karel cut Matthew off. "You speak as though he's never been hurt before." He said, "So protective."

"Have you watched him on the battlefield at all?" The thief's voice quivered, "He's like another you! When there's a sword in his hands, he can't think of anything else! It's as if he's…" Matthew's voice faltered and then cut off, dropping the last word.

Karel had one guess what that last word was. 'Gone'.

"…I don't see how this has anything to do with me." He hissed, letting one hand hover over his sword-hilt, "Move."

Again, Matthew stood there unmoving, like a statue. Karel caught a flicker in his eyes before he spoke, his voice still quivering, but only a little.

"I remember you saying you'd never let anyone turn into another you." He said.

In Karel's mind, Matthew's words were daggers and he'd just made the first hit. The sword-demon's hands found the Wo Dao's handle. He grasped it, glaring at the thief. He was ready to fight back in the only way he knew how.

"My case in point." Matthew said, a smirk crossing his face for a moment, "You're barely human."

There was a still, soundless moment. A question hung heavily in the night air, along with anger, fear, and the stone-cold brutality of having no regrets.

Karel let his hand drop off the sword-hilt. For a minute, the blade had been hungry, but it was calm now, like its master. "I do not regret the path my life has taken." Karel said, glowering at Matthew, "Nor do I wish such a life for anyone else."

The thief gave him a questioning look. "What do you mean?" He asked.

Karel studied Matthew for a second. The thief was curious. And so angry around the sword-demon. He was also worried. Perhaps he had lost someone close to him in the past. And, perhaps, he was not as weak as Karel had initially decided he was.

Maybe he was strong after all – but he could also just be stubborn.

"Do you know how or why I became this way?"

"Explain." It was half an order, half a question the way Matthew said it.

There was a brief, tension-filled silence. Karel was looking Matthew over, like a wolf scouting out prey. His mind was ever-calculating. There were many decisions he needed to make, all within the next few seconds.

His first decision – swords could wait for at least a little bit. Matthew would need to be cut down eventually if this continued, however. He was both a nuisance and a potential threat.

The second decision – tell him. Tell him about becoming the legendary sword-demon, tell him why it would hurt to watch another go down the same path. This would certainly get Matthew off his back at least a little.

Though he'd no longer be just a potential threat. He'd be a true threat, because he would know secrets. One could never trust a thief with secrets. Secrets in the hands of a thief would be sold and twisted and turned against you. Matthew would need to be silenced. Silenced forever, so that he would tell no secrets.

So the third decision that Karel made was that should he discuss matters regarding his past, those he discussed them with would be killed.

This was strictly forbidden, of course. Lords Eliwood, Hector and Lyndis – the authority of this 'army' – wouldn't stand for so much as a fight among the group, unless it was for practice. It would be next to impossible for even him to get away with murder.

This would mean fleeing, which would only confirm his guilt. It wasn't hard for Karel to find a solution to this problem. Their large party contained several former Black Fang members, and Matthew made it painfully obvious that he loathed the Black Fang, even those who had become allies. The thief's hatred of the Angel of Death, Jaffar, was especially obvious. Jaffar didn't have the complete trust of any of the lords yet. It'd be painfully easy to shift the blame onto him.

All these calculations were complete within a minute. No trace of emotion showing on his face, Karel began to speak.

"You remember when I told you that I would never turn anyone into another of myself, correct?" He said. Matthew nodded and folded his arms across his chest, eying Karel with a 'keep talking' kind of stare.

It amused Karel that he was talking and Matthew was so quiet. How wrong that was! But he'd keep going. It was Matthew's loss if he wanted to waste an opportunity to interrogate and pester – possibly his last.

"I come from an old tribe in Sacae." Karel continued, his voice still calm. Already the memories – early, lost memories – were coming back. His earliest memories of bloodshed and pain. They were exciting the side of him that was, as Matthew had put it, barely human. A demonic side of him. "The tribe's name no longer matters. All of them are dead. Slain by my blade…for this."

He lovingly stroked the sheathed sword hanging by his waist. Slowly, he felt his mouth begin to twist into his typical demonic smile. A distant part of him despised the memories, but another part, which had for a long time been the dominant side of the sword-demon, enjoyed them. The scent and taste of human blood seemed almost real, right there, as he recalled that day. That was so many years ago. His first real taste of true bloodlust – wonderful memories.

"My father was the chieftain." He explained, "And the Wo Dao was something of an heirloom. But father was always saying only one could wield the sword. Only one."

Matthew's expression had changed by now, as had Karel's. The sword-demon had gone from emotionless to crazed, and the thief had gone from semi-stern and semi-curious to a sort of shocked look. They must have seemed so weird and out of place against the calm night background.

"…I always wanted to be that one, but there were six children in our family, and surely as one of the youngest, I would never inherit the sword." Karel said this, and his maniacal grin only spread as he remembered the way he'd always admired the sword. Despite his talent, though, and despite how interested he was, he eventually realized that there was only one way to ever wield such a perfect blade.

"Every day, the message of 'only one' was pounded into my mind. I knew it couldn't be me, but I so desired it…that I killed my older siblings for the sword." He shuddered. It wasn't a scared shudder. It was a delighted shudder, a shiver of power. "I so enjoyed the power of my first kill…that I went on to kill my parents…and then the entire tribe. Only my little sister was spared, and even she is very lucky to still be alive."

Finally, Matthew interjected. "And doesn't this frighten you?" He asked.

"Very little. I have no regrets. It's not a path I want to see others go down…that is all." Karel moved closer to the tent, deciding he'd done enough talking over the past twenty minutes or so to last him about a month.

"Don't you – "

"I already told you." Said Karel, entirely reverted to his expressionless state, "I have no regrets."

With that, he pushed through the cloth flap door and stalked into the healer's tent. 'Yes,' he thought, as if it were nothing, 'Yes, I really must dispose of that one.'

After all, upon learning about Karel's past, all but one had died.

-End Chapter-

A/N – Not sure what I thought of that. How about you guys? I'd really appreciate reviews with feedback of any kind, constructive criticism especially. So, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and please review! Here are the responses to the chapter three reviews:

Amethyst Bubble – It's nice to know you're still following (and enjoying) my fic. How's that for update time, hm?

Ryzuki – Nice to hear someone liked my descriptions. I was actually quite fond of chapter three, too, that being one of the reasons.

ShadowAngelUmbreon – Thank you, thank you.

Rayne-kun – Ah, but the weird is half the joy! Really, I must write some Karel/Guy fics WITHOUT the Matthew/Guy … though this IS gonna get really Karel/Guy-ish in the next couple of chapters, I think.


	5. All Mine

A/N – Hmmm…happy with the first part of this chapter. (The dream.) The second half I'm not really that fond of. I'm a little sketchy about what to do with the next chapter, but I'd like to announce that this fic isn't going to go on as long as I'd been expecting. After this, another three or POSSIBLY four chapters and then I'm done. It's been fun, though, driving Guy insane. Here's the next instalment of Double-Edged - enjoy.

'Chapter Five – All Mine'

Guy was having a terrible nightmare.

In the dream, it was totally black wherever he looked. He could see nothing, not even his own hand when he held it up in front of his face. There was a scent lingering in the air, though, a thick, musty odour that was obviously blood. The air's temperature was a bone-chilling cold, causing Guy to shiver.

'I have to get out of here,' He thought. He ran.

He ran and ran, never running out of breath, never slowing down. Everywhere he went he was met with darkness. The chill in the air was tailing after him, along with the scent of fresh, hot blood.

Finally the black gloom broke. Guy found himself running towards a mass of red smoke. An uneasy, frightened feeling rose in the pit of his stomach. It had been a while since he'd felt so scared. He was used to such an emotion, but the feeling hadn't visited in a long, long time.

He wanted to stop going. He needed to stop going. But he found that he couldn't, and he ran right into the scarlet fog, which grew more and more dense as he continued forward. Thick, smoky and bloody, it filled his lungs. It was disgusting. Guy wanted to gag and cough, but he found he couldn't do that, either.

But he could stop running, after all. His feet ceased to function, landing on the ground with a loud, resonating thud. And then, through the ghastly crimson smog, Guy could see.

Two tall figures emerged from the cloud of red. They didn't seem solid, as if beings formed of wind, blurred out and billowing, especially at the edges. Both were just a single colour, one silver and one gold, glowing like flames in the darkness. Neither seemed real.

The knot of terror in Guy's stomach tightened and he felt his face flush free of any colour.

The ghostly figures opened their eyes and glared at him. 'Eyes' was really just the closest word Guy could find. In reality, they were just gaping white holes, illuminating the figures' horrifying faces with an eerie glow.

Then each one raised an arm and pointed something at him – blades.

The blades were nothing like the figures themselves, they were sickeningly real, solid and sharp. Guy tried again to flee and failed, still unable to move. He was beginning to panic. He needed to get away from these people – if it were at all appropriate to call them people. They certainly weren't. They were just shaped as such. He had to get away.

There was an appalling moment of realization – he couldn't get away. If he couldn't run, there was no way. There was fear, and then there was pain.

He could feel the blades, the pointed steel piercing his flesh and drawing out an oozing stream of blood. One through his heart and another through his head. He screamed in agony. It felt all too real.

Then he woke up, sticky with sweat. Shocked, he shot up in bed and when he looked to his left he was met with unfeeling, hungry golden eyes.

"You are awake." Karel said quietly, not taking his gaze off Guy. He had been waiting for a while, just watching the kid. All the healers had retired to individual tents for the night, except for bishop Lucius, who didn't seem to like the idea of Karel alone with the injured.

Foolish of him. He should know that the sword-demon had no desire to cleave the flesh of the weak. What good would drinking weak blood do for the sword? None.

Guy, sweaty and panting, seemed to be avoiding his master's gaze. "Where…where am I?" asked the braided boy, "And why am I so sore?"

"You're in a tent set up for those gravely wounded in the last battle we fought." Lucius' voice rang out from across the tent, "You weren't my patient, Guy, but I heard from Priscilla and Serra about what happened to you. You're suffering from one particularly nasty sword cut and some burns and such from magic, but, with continued treatment, you should be fine in a few days."

Guy didn't respond to what Lucius had said as though Lucius had said it at all. He spoke to Karel instead.

"Master, I…failed." Guy said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You merely overestimated yourself." Karel hissed in response, "A silly, but common, mistake."

Yes, Guy had just been overestimating himself. But wait – wasn't saying so a bit like admitting that Matthew was right? For if Guy did believe himself to be another sword-demon, he was definitely overestimating himself.

No. According to Matthew, that wasn't the way Guy was thinking. Guy wasn't exactly thinking very much at all in battle according to the thief. Right now, though, he was certainly thinking, and he seemed like himself. A discouraged himself, maybe, but there definitely was no visible crack in his sanity.

"But Master Karel!" Guy cried, "Look at me! Lying here in bandages when I should have walked away from that battle unscathed!"

The swordmaster shot his pupil a silencing glare. "If you must believe that someone is at fault, then I am, as your instructor."

"But I can't let stuff like this happen to me! Not if I want to become the most powerful swordsman in Elibe!"

"Most powerful…" Karel mused, "Is that your dream?" He put one hand on the Wo Dao's handle, knowing all too well the consequences of such dreams.

"Y-yes…well, my goal, Master."

"Abandon it." Replied Karel.

"W-what?"

Karel didn't answer. He would rather leave Guy to ponder that one.

"Master?"

"…sleep now, Guy." Karel said it in such a way it bordered on being an order. Karel had nothing more to say to the boy. It was late. He was wounded. He needed to rest.

"Eh?"

Karel's only response was to place a rough hand on Guy's shoulder and push him onto his back. When Karel removed his hand, Guy blinked, shut his eyes, and rolled over.

The sword-demon turned on his heel and started to walk towards the exit. He was halfway out the door when a strange sound urged him back. Unsure why he was reacting this way, he returned to Guy's bedside. The strange noise had only been the boy snoring. He was fine.

'Do we all look so innocent in our sleep, even those whose hands and soul are tainted and stained with a lifetime's worth of blood?' Karel wondered as he watched his young apprentice sleep, so blissful and so calm.

His apprentice. His student. Guy was his. It had such a powerful impact on a person, for such a small word – his. Guy was his.

All his.

End Chapter-

A/N – Well, that was a little weird. What did you all think? I'm asking for your honest opinions, people. Any kind of review is accepted. Thanks for reading and sticking with me this far. Can't say for sure when the next chapter will be out, but I hope you enjoyed this one. Bye for now!

Review responses:

Fire Fanatic – Oh? Do I have someone else addicted to MxG? Welcome to the club. Glad you liked my fic. It seems a lot of people have been complimenting my descriptions, thanks!

ShadowAngelUmbreon – Hmm…I pondered Karel being the oldest, and then just springing on his family after inheriting the Wo Dao, but rather preferred the version I ended up using. Karel's past was a lot of fun to work with, since the game only really tells us a tiny little bit. (See the Karel/Karla supports.)

Mewlon – Yeah, Rath/Guy is a good one too. Another obscure FE slash fan, whoot!

Jinn the Master Sage – Whoops! Fixed that typo. It was supposed to be 'with'. Thanks for pointing that out to me.


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